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THE 



Emperor 
Jones 






BY 



EUGENE O'NEILL 




Stewart Kidd 

MODERN PLAYS 

EDITED BY 

FRANK SHAY 



Ellis'. 



Stewart Kidd Modern Plays 

I 

Edited by FRANK SHAY 

To meet the immensely increased demands of the play-reading public 
and those interested in the modern drama, Stewart Kidd are issuing 
under the general editorship of Frank Shay a series of plays from the pens 
of the world's best contemporary writers. No effort is being spared to 
secure the best work available, and the plays are issued in a form that is 
at once attractive to readers and suited to the needs of the performer 
and producer. Buffalo Express: "Each play is of merit. Each is unlike 
the other. The group furnishes a striking example [of the realistic trend 
of the modern drama." 

From time to time special announcements will be printed giving com- 
plete lists of the plays. 

SHAM, a Social Satire in One Act. By Frank G. Tompkins. 
Originally produced by Sam Hume, at the Arts and Crafts Theatre, 

Detroit. 
San Francisco Bulletin: "The lines are new and many of them 
are decidedly clever." 
Providence Journal : "An ingenious and merry little one-act play." 

THE SHEPHERD IN THE DISTANCE, a Pantomime in 
One Act. By Holland Hudson. 
Originally produced by the Washington Square Players. 
Oakland Tribune : "A pleasing pantomime of the Ancient East." 

MANSIONS, a Play in One Act. By Hildegarde Flanner. 
Originally produced by the Indiana Little Theatre Society. 
Three Arts Magazine : "This thoughtful and well-written play of 
Characters and Ideals has become a favorite with Little Theatres 
and is now available in print." 

HEARTS TO MEND, a Fantasy in One Act. 

By H. A. Over street. 

Originally produced by the Fireside Players, White Plains, N. Y. 
St. Louis Star : "It is a light whimsy and well carried out." 
San Francisco Chronicle: "No one is likely to hear or read it 
without real and legitimate pleasure." 

SIX WHO PASS WHILE THE LENTILS BOIL. 

By Stuart Walker. 
Originally produced by the Portmanteau Players at Christodora 

House, New York City. 
Brooklyn Eagle : "Literary without being pedantic, and dramatic 
without being noisy." 

OTHERS TO FOLLOW. Bound in Art Paper, bach, net, .50 



The Emperor Jones 



By 
EUGENE O'NEILL 

Author of "lies," "Bound East for Cardiff," etc. 
First Performed by the Provincetown Players, November, 1920. 



STEWART St KIDDl 



l«^il 



ONCINNATl U a A. 



CINCINNATI 

STEWART KIDD COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 



^ 



COPYRIGHT, 1921 

STEWART KIDD COMPANY 



^i^f^ 



All rights reserved 

COPYRIGHT IN ENGLAND 



No amateur or professional use permitted of The Emperor 
Jones without written authorization first obtained from American 
Pfay Company, Inc., 33 West 42d*»Street, New York City, to whom 
all applications should be addressed. 



^ 



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AUG -t im 



il 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



CHARACTERS 

Brutus Jones, Emperor 
Henry Smithers, a Cockney trader 
An Old Native Woman 
Lem, a Native Chief 
Soldiers, Adherents of Sun 

The Little Formless Fears 

Jeff 

The Negro Convicts 

The Prison Guard 

The Planters 

The Auctioneer 

The Slaves 

The Congo Witch Doctor 

The Crocodile God 

The action of the play takes place on an island in the West 
Indies, as yet un-self-determined by white marines. The form of 
native government is, for the time being, an Empire. 



The Emperor Jones 

SCENE ONE 

^ The audience chamber in the palace of the Em- 
peror — a spacious^ high-ceilinged room with barCy 
white-washed walls. The floor is of white tiles. In 
the reary to the left of c enter y a wide archway giving 
out on a portico with white pillars. The palace 
is evidently situated on high groundy for beyond 
~ the portico nothing can be seen but a vista of 
distant hillsy their summits crowned with thick 
groves of palm trees. In the right wally center y a 
smaller arched doorway leading to the living 
quarters of the palace. The room is bare of furni- 
ture with the exception of one huge chair, made of 
uncut woody which stands at centery its back to 
rear. This is very apparently the Emperor s 
throne. It is painted a dazzlingy eye-smiting 
scarlet. There is a brilliant orange cushion on 
the seat and another smaller one is placed on the 
floor to serve as a footstool. Strips of mattingy 
dyed scarlety lead from the foot of the throne to 
the two entrances. 

It is late afternoony but the sunlight still blazes 
yellowly beyond the porticOy and there is an 
oppressive burden of exhausting heat in the air. 
As the curtain rises a native negro woman sneaks 
in cautiously from the entrance on the right. 
She is very oldy dressed in cheap calicOy bare- 
footedy a red bandana handkerchief covering all 

7 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



but a Jew stray wisps of white hair. A bundle 
bound in colored cloth is carried over her shoulder 
on the end of a stick. She hesitates beside the 
doorway y peering back as if in extreme dread of 
being discovered. Then she begins to glide noise- 
lessly^ a step at a time^ toward the doorway in 
the rear. At this moment Smithers appears 
beneath the portico. 

Smithers is a tall, stoop-shouldered man about 
forty. His bald head, perched on a long neck 
with an enormous Adam's apple, looks like an 
egg. The tropics have tanned his naturally pasty 
face with its small, sharp features to a sickly 
yellow, and native rum has painted his pointed 
nose to a startling red. His little washy-blue eyes 
are red-rimmed, and dart about like a ferret's. 
His expression is one of unscrupulous meanness, 
cowardly and dangerous. His attitude toward 
Jones is that of one who will give vent to a nourished 
grudge against all superiority — as far as he dares. 
He is dressed in a worn riding suit of dirty white 
drill, puttees, spurs, and wears a white cork 
helmet. A cartridge belt with an automatic re- 
volver is around his waist. He carries a riding 
whip in his hand. He sees the woman and stops 
to watch her suspiciously. Then, making up his 
mind, he steps quickly on tiptoe into the room. 
The woman, looking back over her shoulder con- 
tinually, does not see him until it is too late. 
When she does, Smithers springs forward and 
grabs herfirjnly by the shoulder. She struggles to 
get away, fiercely but silently. 
8 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



SMiTHERS {tightening his grasp — roughly) 

Easy! None o* that, me birdie. You can't 
wriggle out now. I got me 'ook^s on yer. 

WOMAN {seeing the uselessness of struggling^ gives 
away to frantic terror and sinks to the ground^ 
embracing his knees supplicatingly). 
No tell him! No tell him, Mister! 

SMITHERS {with great curiosity) 

Tell 'im {Then scornfully) Oh, you mean 'is 
bloomin' Majesty. What's the gaime, any 'ow? 
What are you sneakin' away for? Been stealin' 
a bit, I s'pose. {He taps her bundle with his 
riding whip significantly?) 

WOMAN {shaking her head vehemently) 
No, me no steal. 

SMITHERS 

Bloody har! But tell me what's up. There's 
somethin' funny goin' on. I smelled it in the 
air first thing I got up this mornin'. You 
blacks are up to some devilment. This palace 
of 'is is like a bleedin' tomb. Where's all the 
'ands? {The woman keeps sullenly silent. Smith- 
ers raises his whip threateningly.) Ow, yer 
won^t, won't yer? I'll show yer what's what. 
WOMAN {coweringly) 

I tell. Mister. You no hit. They go — all go. 
{She makes a sweeping gesture toward the hills in 
the distance.) 

SMITHERS 

Run away — to the 'ills? 

WOMAN 

Yes, Mister. Him Emperor — Great Father — 
9 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



{She touches her forehead to the floor with a quicky 
mechanical jerk.) Him sleep after eat. Then 
they go — all go. Me old woman. Me left 
only. Now me go, too. 
SMiTHERS (his astonishment giving way to an im- 
mense mean satisfaction) 

Ow! So that's the ticket! Well, I know bloody 
well wot's in the air — when they runs orf to 
the 'ills. The tom-tom '11 be thumping out 
there bloomin' soon. {With extreme vindictive- 
ness) And I'm bloody glad of it, for one! Serve 
'im right! Puttin' on airs, the stinkin' nigger! 
'Is Majesty! Gawd blimey! I only 'opes I'm 
there when they takes 'im out to shoot 'im. 
{Suddenly) 'E's still 'ere all right, ain't 'e? 

WOMAN 

Yes. Him sleep. 

SMITHERS 

'E's bound to find out soon as 'e wakes up. 
'E's cunnin' enough to know when 'is time's 
come. {He goes to the doorway on right and 
whistles shrilly with his fingers in his mouth. 
The old woman springs to her feet and runs out 
of the doorway^ rear. S mi t hers goes after her, 
reaching for his revolver.) Stop or I'll shoot! 
{Then stopping indifferently.) Pop orf, then, if 
yer like, yer black cow! {He stands in the door- 
way ^ looking after her.) 

{Jones enters from the right. He is a tall, power- 
fully-built, full-blooded negro of middle age. His 
features are typically negroid, yet there is something 

10 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



decidedly distinctive about his face — an underlying 
strength of will^ a hardy ^ self-reliant confidence 
in himself that inspires respect. His eyes are 
alive with a keen^ cunning intelligence. In man- 
ner he is shrewdy suspicious^ evasive. He wears 
a light-blue uniform coat, sprayed with brass 
buttons y heavy gold chevrons on his shoulders ^ gold 
braid on the collar ^ cuffs^ etc. His pants are 
bright red, with a light-blue stripe down the side. 
Patent leather laced boots with brass spurs ^ and a 
belt with a long-barreled ^ pearl-handled revolver in 
a holster^ complete his make-up. Yet there is 
something not altogether ridiculous about his 
grandeur. He has a way of carrying it of.) 

JONES {not seeing anyone — greatly irritated and 
blinking sleepily — shouts) 

Who dare whistle dat way in my palace? Who 
dare wake up de Emperor? I'll git de hide 
frayled off some o' you niggers shoM 

SMiTHERS {showing himself — in a manner half- 
afraid and half -defiant) 

It was me whistled to yer. {As Jones frowns 
angrily^ I got news for yer. 

JONES {putting on his suavest manner^ which fails 
to cover up his contempt for the white man) 
Oh, it's you, Mister Smithers. {He sits down 
on his throne with easy dignity^ What news 
you got to tell me? 

SMITHERS {coming close to enjoy his discomfiture) 
Don't you notice nothin' funny to-day? 
II 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



JONES {coldly) 

Funny ? No, I ain't perceived nothin' of de kind ! 

SMITHERS 

Then you ain't so foxy as I thought you was. 

Where's all your court? {Sarcastically) the 

Generals and the Cabinet Ministers and all? 
JONES {imperturbably) 

Where dey mostly runs to minute I closes my 

eyes^drinkin' rum and talkin' big down in de 

town. {Sarcastically) How come you don't 

know dat? Ain't you sousin' with 'em miost 

every day? 
SMITHERS {stung^ but pretending indiference — with 

a wink) 

That's part of the day's work. I got ter — ain't 

I — in my business? 
JONES {contemptuously) 

Yo' business! 
SMITHERS {imprudently enraged) 

Gawd blimey, you was glad enough for me ter 

take you in on it when you landed here first. 

You didn' 'ave no 'igh and mighty airs in them 

days ! 
JONES {his hand going to his revolver like a flash — 

menacingly) 

Talk polite, white man! Talk polite, you heah 

me! I'm boss heah now, is you forgettin'? 

{The Cockney seems about to challenge this last 

statement with the facts, but something in the 

other s eyes holds and cows him.) 
SMITHERS {in a cowardly whine) 

No 'arm meant, old top. 

12 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



JONES {condescendingly) 

I accepts yo' apology. {Lets his hand fall from 
his revolver^ No use'n you rakin' up ole times. 
What I was den is one thing. What I is now's 
another. You didn't let me in on yo' crooked 
work out o' no kind feelin' dat time. I done de 
Ndirty work fo' you — and most o' de brain work, 
too, fo' dat matter — and I was wu'th money to 
you, dat's de reason. 

SMITHERS 

Well, blimey, I give yer a start, didn't I — when 
no one else would. I wasn't afraid to hire yer 
like the rest was — 'count of the story about 
your breakin' jail back in the States. 

JONES 

No, you didn't have no s'cuse to look down on 
me fo' dat. You been in jail yo'self more'n 
once. 
SMITHERS {furiously) 

It's a lie! {Then trying to pass it of by an at- 
tempt at scorn) Garn ! Who told yer that fairy tale ? 

JONES 

Dey's some things I ain't got to be tole. I kin 
see 'em in folks eyes. {Then after a pause — 
meditatively) Yes, you sho' give me a start. 
And it didn't take long from dat time to git 
dese fool woods' niggers right where I wanted 
dem. {With pride) From stowaway to Em- 
peror in two years! Dat's goin' some! 
SMITHERS {with curiosity) 

And I bet you got er pile o' money 'id safe 
someplace. 

• 13 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



JONES {with satisfaction) 

I sho' has! And it's in a foreign bank where 
no pusson don't ever get it out but me, no 
matter what come. You don't s'pose I was 
holdin' down dis Emperor job for de glory in 
it, did you? Sho'! De fuss and glory part of 
it, dat's only to turn de heads o' de low-flung 
bush niggers dat's here. Dey wants de big 
circus show for deir money. I gives it to 'em 
an' I gits de money. {With a grin?) De long 
green, dat's me every time! {Then rebukingly) 
But you ain't got no kick agin me, Smithers. 
I'se paid you back all you done for me many 
times. Ain't I pertected you and winked at all 
de crooked tradin' you been doin* right out in 
de broad day? Sho' I has — and me makin' 
laws to stop it at de same time! {He chuckles?) 

SMITHERS {grinning) 

But, meanin' no 'arm, you been grabbin' right 
and left yourself, ain't you? Look at the taxes 
you've put on 'em! Blimey! You've squeezed 
'em dry 

JONES {chuckling) 

No dey ain't all dry yet. I'se still heah, ain't I ? 

SMITHERS {smiling at his secret thought) 

They're dry right now, you'll find out. {Chang- 
ing the subject abruptly) And as for me breaking 
laws, you've broke 'em all yerself just as fast 
as yer made 'em. 

JONES 

Ain't I de Emperor? De laws don't go for 
him. {Judiciously) You heah what I tells you, 

14 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



Smithers. Dere's little stealin' like you does, 
and dere's big stealin' like I does. For de little 
stealin' dey gits you in jail soon or late. For 
de big stealin' dey makes you Emperor and 
puts you in de Hall o' Fame when you croaks. 
{Reminiscently) If dey's one thing I learns in 
ten years on de Pullman ca's listenin' to de 
white quality talk, it's dat same fact. And 
when I gits a chance to use it I winds up Em- 
peror in two years. 

SMITHERS {unable to repress the genuine admiration 
of the small fry for the large) 
Yes, you turned the bleedin' trick, all right. 
Blimey, I never seen a bloke 'as 'ad the bloomin' 
luck you 'as. 

JONES {severely) 

Luck? What you mean — luck? 

SMITHERS 

I suppose you'll say as that swank about the 
silver bullet ain't luck — and that was what 
first got the fool blacks on yer side the tjme of 
the revolution, wasn't it? 
JONES {with a laugh) 

Oh, dat silver bullet! Sho' was luck! But I 
makes dat luck, you heah? I loads de dice! 
Yessuh! When dat murderin' nigger ole Lem 
hired to kill me takes aim ten feet away and 
his gun misses fire and I shoots him dead, what 
you heah me say? 

SMITHERS 

You said yer'd got a charm so's no lead bullet 'd 
kill yer. You was so strong only a silver bullet 

15 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



could kill yer, you told 'em. Blimey, wasn't 
that swank for yer — and plain, fat-'eaded luck? 
JONES {proudly) 

I got brains and I uses 'em quick. Dat ain't 
luck. 

SMITHERS 

Yer knew they wasn't 'ardly liable to get no 
silver bullets. And it was luck 'e didn't 'it you 
that time. 

JONES (laughing) 

And dere all dem fool bush niggers was kneelin' 
down and bumpin' deir heads on de ground 
like I was a miracle out o' de Bible. Oh, Lawd, 
from dat time on I has dem all eatin' out of 
my hand. I cracks de whip and dey jumps 
through. 

SMITHERS (with a snif) 
Yankee bluff done it. 

JONES 

Ain't a man's talkin' big what makes him big 
— long as he makes folks believe it. Sho' I 
talks large when I ain't got nothin' to back it 
up, but I ain't talkin' wild just de same. I 
knows I kin fool 'em — I knows it — and dat's 
backin' enough fo' my game. And ain't I got 
to learn deir lingo and teach some of dem 
English befo' I kin talk to 'em? Ain't dat 
wuk? You ain't never learned ary word er 
it, Smithers, in de ten years you been heah, 
dough yo' knows it's money in yo' pocket 
tradin' wid 'em if you does. But yo' too shift- 
less to take de trouble. 
i6 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



SMiTHERS {flushing) 

Never mind about me. What's this IVe 'eard 
about yer really 'avin' a silver bullet moulded 
for yourself? 

JONES 

It's playin' out my bluff. I has de silver bullet 
, moulded and I tells 'em when de time comes I 
kills myself wid it. I tells 'em dat's 'cause I'm 
de on'y man in de world big enuff to git me. 
No use'n deir tryin'. And dey falls down and 
bumps deir heads. (He laughs^ I does dat 
so's I kin take a walk in peace widout no 
jealous nigger gunnin' at me from behind de 
trees. 
SMITHERS {astonished) 

Then you 'ad it made — 'onest? 

JONES 

Sho' did. Heah she be. {He takes out his re- 
volver^ breaks it, and takes the silver bullet out of 
one chamber?) Five lead an' dis silver baby at 
de last. Don't she shine pretty? {He holds it 
in his hand, looking at it admiringly, as if 
strangely fascinated?) 

SMITHERS 

Let me see. {Reaches out his hand for it.) 

JONES {harshly) 

Keep yo' hands whar dey b'long, white man. 
{He replaces it in the chamber and puts the re- 
volver back on his hip.) 

SMITHERS {snarling) 

Gawd blimey! Think I'm a bleedin' thief, 
you would. 

17 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



JONES 

No. 'Tain't dat. I knows you'se scared to 
steal from me. On'y I ain't 'lowin' nary body 
to touch dis baby. She's my rabbit's foot. 

SMITH ERS {sneering) 

A bloomin' charm, wot? {Venomously) Well, 
you'll need all the bloody charms you 'as be- 
fore long, s' 'elp me! 

JONES {judicially) 

Oh, I'se good for six months yit 'fore dey gits 
sick o' my game. Den, when I sees trouble 
comin', I makes my get-a-way. 

SMITHERS 

Ho! You got it all planned, ain't yer? 

JONES 

I ain't no fool. I knows dis Emperor's time is 
sho't. Dat why I make hay when de sun 
shine. Was you thinkin' I'se aimin' to hold 
down dis job for life? No, suh! What good is 
gittin' money if you stays back in dis raggedy 
country? I wants action when I spends. And 
when I sees dese niggers gittin' up deir nerve 
to tu'n me out, and I'se got all de money in 
sight, I resigns on de spot and beats it quick. 

SMITHERS 

Where to? 

JONES 

None o' yo' business. 

SMITHERS 

Not back to the bloody States, I'll lay my oath. 
JONES {suspiciously) 

Why don't I? {Then with an easy laugh) You 
i8 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



mean 'count of dat story 'bout me breakin' from 

jail back dere? Dat's all talk. 
SMITH ERS {skeptically) 

Ho, yes! 
JONES (sharply) 

You ain't 'sinuatin' I'se a liar, is you? 
SMITH ERS {hastily) 

No, Gawd strike me! I was only thinkin' o' 

the bloody lies you told the blacks 'ere about 

killin' white men in the States. 
JONES {angered) 

How come dey're lies? 

SMITHERS 

You'd 'ave been in jail if you 'ad, wouldn't yer 
then? {JVith venom) And from what I've 'eard, 
it ain't 'ealthy for a black to kill a white man 
in the States. They burn 'em in oil, don't 
they? 

JONES {with cool deadline ss) 

You mean lynchin' 'd scare me? Well, I tells 
you, Smithers, maybe I does kill one white man 
back dere. Maybe I does. And maybe I kills 
another right heah 'fore long if he don't look out. 

SMITHERS {trying to force a laugh) 

I was on'y spoofin' yer. Can't yer take a joke? 
And you was just sayin' you'd never been in jail. 

JONES {in the same tone — slightly boastful) 

Maybe I goes to jail dere for gettin' in an argu- 
ment wid razors ovah a crap game. Maybe I 
gits twenty years when dat colored man die. 
Maybe I gits in 'nother argument wid de 
prison guard who was overseer ovah us when 

19 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



we're walkin' de roads. Maybe he hits me wid a 
whip an' I splits his head wid a shovel an' runs 
away an' files de chain off my leg an' gits away 
safe. Maybe I does all dat an' maybe I don't. 
It's a story I tells you so's you knows I'se de 
kind of man dat if you evah repeats one word 
of it, I ends yo' stealin' on dis yearth mighty 
damn quick! 

SMITH ERS {terrified) 

Think I'd peach on yer? Not me! Ain't I 
always been yer friend.^ 

JONES {suddenly relaxing) 

Sho' you has — and you better be. 

SMiTHERS {recovering his composure — and with it 
his malice) 

And just to show yer I'm yer friend, I'll tell 
yer that bit o' news I was goin' to. 

JONES 

Go ahead! Shoot de piece. Must be bad news 

from de happy way you look. 
SMITHERS {warningly) 

Maybe it's gettin' time for you to resign — with 

that bloomin' silver bullet, wot? {He finishes 

with a mocking grin.) 
JONES {puzzled) 

What's dat you say? Talk plain. 

SMITHERS 

Ain't noticed any of the guards or servants 
about the place to-day, I 'aven't. 
JONES {carelessly) 

Dey're all out in de garden sleepin' under de 
trees. When I sleeps, dey sneaks a sleep, too, 
20 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



and I pretends I never suspicions it. All I got 
to do is to ring de bell an' dey come flyin', 
makin' a bluff dey was wukin' all de time. 

SMiTHERS {in the same mocking tone) 

Ring the bell now an' you'll bloody well see 
what I means. 

JONES {startled to alertness, but preserving the same 
careless tone) 

Sho' I rings. {He reaches below the throne and 
pulls out a big common dinner bell which is 
painted the same vivid scarlet as the throne. He 
rings this vigorously — then stops to listen. Then 
he goes to both doors, rings again, and looks 
out.) 

SMITHERS {watching him with malicious satisfac- 
tion — after a pause — mockingly) 
The bloody ship is sinkin' an' the bleedin' 
rats 'as slung their 'ooks. 

JONES {in a sudden fit of anger flings the bell clatter- 
ingly into a corner) 

Low-flung, woods niggers! {Then catching 
Smithers' eye on him, he controls himself and 
suddenly bursts into a low, chuckling laugh.) 
Reckon I overplays my hand dis once! A man 
can't take de pot on a bob-tailed flush all de time. 
Was I sayin' I'd sit in six months mo'? Well, 
I'se changed my mind, den. I cashes in and 
resigns de job of Emperor right dis minute. 

SMITHERS {with real admiration) 

Blimey, but you're a cool bird, and no mistake. 

JONES 

No use'n fussin'. When I knows de game's up 
21 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



I kisses it good-bye widout no long waits. 
DeyVe all run off to de hills, ain't dey? 

SMITHERS 

Yes — every bleedin' manjack of 'em. 

JONES 

Den de revolution is at de post. And de Em- 
peror better git his feet smokin' up de trail. 
{He starts for the door in rear.) 

SMITHERS 

Goin' out to look for your 'orse? Yer won't 
find any. They steals the 'orses first thing. 
Mine was gone when I went for 'im this mornin'. 
That's wot first give me a suspicion of wot was up. 
JONES {alarmed for a second^ scratches his heady 
then philosophically) 

Well, den I hoofs it. Feet, do yo' duty! {He 
pulls out a gold watch and looks at it.) Three- 
thuty. Sundown's at six-thuty or dereabouts. 
{Puts his watch back — with cool confidence.) I 
got plenty o* time to make it easy. 

SMITHERS 

Don't be so bloomin' sure of it. They'll be 
after you 'ot and 'eavy. Ole Lem is at the 
bottom o' this business an' 'e 'ates you like 
'ell. 'E'd rather do for you than eat 'is dinner, 
'e would! 
JONES {scornfully) 

Dat fool no-count nigger! Does you think Fse 
scared o' him? I stands him on his thick head 
more'n once befo' dis, and I does it again if he 
come in my way — {fiercely). And dis time I 
leave him a dead nigger fo' sho'! 

22 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



SMITHERS 

You'll 'ave to cut through the big forest — an' 
these blacks 'ere can sniff and follow a trail in 
the dark like 'ounds. You'd 'ave to 'ustle to 
get through that forest in twelve hours even if 
you knew all the bloomin' trails like a native. 
JONES {with indignant scorn) 

Look-a-heah, white man! Does you think Tm 
a natural bo'n fool? Give me credit fo' havin' 
some sense, fo' Lawd's sake! Don't you s'pose 
I'se looked ahead and made sho' of all de 
chances? I'se gone out in dat big forest, pre- 
tendin' to hunt so many times dat I knows it 
high an' low like a book. I could go through 
on dem trails wid my eyes shut. {With great 
contempt) Think dese ig'nerent bush niggers 
dat ain't got brains enuff to know deir own 
names even can catch Brutus Jones? Huh! I 
s'pects not! Not on yo' life! Why, man, de 
white men went after me wid bloodhounds where 
I come from an' I jes' laughs at 'em. It's a 
shame to fool dese black trash around heah, 
dey're so easy. You watch me, man. I'll 
make dem look sick, I will. I'll be 'cross de 
plain to de edge of de forest by time dark 
comes. Once in de woods in de night, dey got 
a swell chance o' findin' dis baby! Dawn to- 
morrow I'll be out at de oder side and on de 
coast whar dat French gunboat is stayin'. She 
picks me up, take me to the Martinique when 
she go dar, and dere I is safe wid a mighty big 
bankroll in my j eans. It's easy as rollin' off a log. 
23 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



SMiTHERS (maliciously) 

But s'posin' somethin' *appens wrong an' they 

do nab yer? 
JONES {decisively) 

Dey don't. Dat's de answer. 

SMITHERS 

But just for argyment's sake — what'd you do? 

JONES {frowning) 

Tse got five lead bullets in dis gun good enufF 
fo' common bush niggers — an' after dat I got 
de silver bullet left to cheat 'em out o' gittin' me. 

SMITHERS {jeeringly) 

Ho, I was fergettin' that silver bullet. You'll 
bump yourself orf in style, won't yer? Blimey! 

JONES {gloomily) 

Yo' kin bet yo' whole roll on one thing, white 
man. Dis baby plays out his string to de end 
and when he quits, he quits wid a bang de way 
he ought. Silver bullet ain't none too good 
for him when he go, dat's a fac'! {Then shaking 
of his nervousness — with a confident laugh) Sho' ! 
What is I talkin' about? Ain't come to dat yit 
an' I never will — not wid trash niggers like 
dese yere. {Boastfully) Silver bullet bring me 
luck, anyway. I kin outguess, outrun, outfight, 
an' outplay de whole lot o' dem all ovah de 
board any time o' de day er night! Yo' watch 
me! 

{From the distant hills comes the faint, steady 
thump of a tom-tom, low and vibrating. It starts 
at a rate exactly corresponding to normal pulse- 

24 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



beat — 72 to the minute — and continues at a 
gradually accelerating rate from this point unin- 
terruptedly to the very end of the play.) 
Jones starts at the sound; a strange look of appre- 
hension creeps into his face for a moment as he 
listens. Then he asks, with an attempt to regain 
his most casual manner:) 

What's dat drum beatin' fo'? 
SMiTHERS (with a mean grin) 

For you. That means the bleedin' ceremony 'as 
started. IVe 'eard it before and I knows. 

JONES 

Cer'mony? What cer'mony? 

SMITHERS 

The blacks is 'oldin' a bloody meetin', 'avin' a 
war dance, gettin' their courage worked up 
before they starts after you. 

JONES 

Let dem! Dey'll sho' need it! 

SMITHERS 

- And they're there 'oldin' their 'eathen religious 
service — makin' no end of devil spells and 
charms to 'elp 'em against your silver bullet. 
(He gufaws loudly.) Blimey, but they're 
balmy as 'ell. 

JONES (^ tiny bit awed and shaken in spite of 
himself) 
Huh! Takes more'n dat to scare dis chicken! 

SMITHERS (scenting the other^ s feeling — maliciously) 
Ternight when it's pitch black in the forest, 
they'll 'ave their pet devils and ghosts 'oundin' 

25 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



after you. You'll find yer bloody 'air '11 be 
standin' on end before to-morrow mornin'. 
{Seriously) It's a bleedin' queer place, that 
stinkin' forest, even in daylight. Yer don't 
know what might 'appen in there, it's that 
rotten still. Always sends the cold shivers 
down my back minute I gets in it. 
JONES (with a contemptuous snif) 

I ain't no chicken-liver like you is. Trees 
an' me, we's friends, an' dar's a full moon 
comin' bring me light. And let dem po' niggers 
make all de fool spells dey'se a min' to. Does 
yo' s'pect I'se silly enuff to b'lieve in ghosts 
an' ha'nts an' all dat ole woman's talk? 
G'long, white man! You ain't talkin' to me. 
{With a chuckle) Doesn't you knows dey's got to 
do wid a man who was member in good standin' 
o' de Baptist Church. Sho' I was dat when I 
was porter on de Pullman, an' befo' I gits into 
my little trouble. Let dem try deir heathen 
tricks. De Baptist Church done pertect me 
an' land dem all in hell. {Then with more con- 
fident satisfaction) An' I'se got little silver bullet 
o' my own, don't forgit. 

SMITHERS 

Ho! You 'aven't give much 'eed to your Bap- 
tist Church since you been down 'ere. I've 
'eard myself and 'ad turned yer coat an' was 
takin' up with their blarsted witch-doctors, or 
whatever the 'ell yer calls the swine. 
JONES {vehemently) 

I pretends to! Sho' I pretends! Dat's part o' 
26 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



my game from de fust. If I finds out dem 
niggers believes dat black is white, den I yells 
it out louder 'n deir loudest. It don't git 
me nothin' to do missionary work for de Bap- 
tist Church. Fse after de coin, an* I lays my 
Jesus on de shelf for de time bein'. {Stops ab- 
ruptly to look at his watch — alertly^ But I ain't 
got de time to waste no mo'e fool talk wid you. 
I'se gwine away from heah dis secon'. (He 
reaches in under the throne and pulls out an ex- 
pensive Panama hat with a bright multi-colored 
band and sets it jauntily on his head.) So long, 
white man! {With a grin) See you n jail 
some time, maybe! 

SMITHERS 

Not me, you won't. Well, I wouldn't be in yer 
bloody boots for no bloomin' money, but 'ere's 
wishin' yer luck just the same. 

JONES {contemptuously) 

You're de frightenedest man evah I see! I tells 
you I'se safe 's'f I was in New York City. It 
take dem niggers from now to dark to git up 
de nerve to start somethin'. By dat time I'se 
got a head start dey never kotch up wid. 

SMITHERS {maliciously) 

Give my regards to any ghosts yer meets up with. 

JONES {grinning) 

If dat ghost got money, I'll tell him never 
ha'nt you less'n he wants to lose it. 

SMITHERS {flattered) 

Garn! {Then curiously) Ain't yer takin' no 
luggage with yer? 

27 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



JONES 

I travels light when I wants to move fast. 
And I got tinned grub buried on de edge o' de 
forest. {Boastfully) Now say dat I don't look 
ahead an' use my brains! {JVith a wide, liberal 
gesture) I will all dat's left in de palace to you 
an' you better grab all you kin sneak away wid 
befo' dey gits here. 
SMiTHERS {gratefully) 

Righto — and thanks ter yer. {As Jones walks 
toward the door in rear — cautioningly) Say! Look 
'ere, you ain't goin' out that way, are yer? 

JONES 

Does you think I'd slink out de back door like 
a common nigger? I'se Emperor yit, ain't I? 
And de Emperor Jones leaves de way he comes, 
and dat black trash don't dare stop him — not 
yit, leastways.- {He stops for a moment in the 
doorway, listening to the far-of but insistent beat 
of the tom-tom^ Listen to dat roll-call, will 
yo'? Must be mighty big drum carry dat far. 
{Then with a laugh) Well, if dey ain't no whole 
brass band to see me off, I sho' got de drum 
part of it. So long, white man. {He puts his 
hands in his pockets and with studied careless- 
ness, whistling a tune, he saunters out of the 
doorway and off to the left.) 
SMITHERS {looks after him with a puzzled admira- 
tion) 

'E's got 'is bloomin' nerve with 'im, s'elp me! 
(Then angrily) Ho — the bleedin' nigger — puttin' 
on 'is bloody airs! I 'opes thev nabs 'im an' 
28 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



gives 'im what's what! (Then putting business 
before the pleasure of his thought^ looking around 
him with cupidity^ A bloke ought to find a 'ole 
lot in this palace that 'd go for a bit of cash. 
Let's take a look, 'Arry, me lad. {He starts for 
the doorway on right as) 

The Curtain Falls 



SCENE TWO: NIGHTFALL 

(The end of the plain where the Great Forest be- 
gins. The foreground is sandy ^ level ground^ 
dotted by a few stones and clumps of stunted 
bushes cowering close against the earth to escape 
the buffeting of the trade wind. In the rear the 
forest is a wall of darkness dividing the world. 
Only when the eye becomes accustomed to the 
gloom can the outlines of separate trunks of the 
nearest trees be made out^ enormous pillars of 
deeper blackness. A somber monotone of wind 
lost in the leaves moans in the air. Yet this sound 
serves but to intensify the impression of the 
foresfs relentless immobility^ to form a back- 
ground throwing into relief its brooding^ im- 
placable silence.) 

{Jones enters from the left, walking rapidly. He 
stops as he nears the edge of the forest, looks 
around him quickly, peering into the dark as if 
searching for some familiar landmark, Then^ 
29 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



apparently satisfied that he is where he ought to 
bey he throws himself on the ground^ dog-tired.) 

Well, heah I is. In de nick o' time, too! Little 
mo' an' it'd be blacker'n de ace of spades 
heahabouts. {He pulls a bandana handkerchief 
from his hip pocket and mops of his perspiring 
face,) Sho! Gimme air! Tse tuckered out sho' 
'nuf. Dat soft Emperor job ain't no trainin' 
fo' a long hike ovah dat plain in de brilin' sun 
{Then with a chuckle) Cheah up, nigger, der 
worst is yet to come. {He lifts his head and 
stares at the forest. His chuckle peters out ab- 
ruptly. In a tone of awe): My goodness, look 
at dem woods, will you? Dat no-count Smith- 
ers said dey'd be black an' he sho' called de 
turn. {Turning away from them quickly ^ and 
looking down at his feet^ he snatches at a chance 
to change the subject — solicitously:) Feet, yo* 
is holdin' up yo' end fine an' I sutinly hopes 
you ain't blisterin' none. It's time you git a 
rest. {He takes off his shoeSy his eyes studiously 
avoiding the forest. He feels of the soles of his 
feet gingerly.) You is still in de pink — only a 
little mite feverish. Cool you' self. Remem- 
ber yo' done got a long journey yit befo' yo'. 
{He sits in a weary attitudcy listening to the 
rhythmic beating of the tom-tom. He grumbles in 
a loud tone to cover up a growing uneasiness?} 
Bush niggers! Wonder dey wouldn't git sick 
o' beatin' dat drum. Sound louder, seem like. 
I wonder if dey's startin' after me? {He scram- 

30 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



bles to his feet^ looking back across the plain.) 
Couldn't see dem now, nohow, if dey was 
hundred feet away. (Then shaking himself like 
a wet dog to get rid of these depressing thoughts^ 
Sho', dey's miles an' miles behind. What yo* 
gittin' fidgetty about? (But he sits down and 
begins to lace up his shoes in great haste^ all the 
time muttering reassuringly?) You know what? 
Yo' belly is empty, dat's what's de matter wid 
you. Come time to eat! Wid nothin' but 
wind on yo' stumach, o' course yo' feels jig- 
gedy. Well, we eats right heah an' now soon's 
I gits dese pesky shoes laced up. (He finishes 
lacing up his shoes.) Dere! Now le's see! 
Gets on his hands and knees and searches the 
ground around him with his eyes.) White stone, 
white stone, where is yo'? (He sees the first 
white stone and crawls to it — with satisfaction^ 
Heah yo' is! I knowed dis was de right place. 
Box of grub, come to me. (He turns over the 
stone and feels in under it — in a tone of dismay) 
Ain't heah! Gorry, is I in de right place or 
isn't I? Dere's 'nother stone. Guess dat's it. 
(lie scrambles to the next stone and turns it over.) 
Ain't heah, neither! Grub, whar is yo'? Ain't 
heah. Gorry, has I got to go hungry into dem 
woods — all de night? (While he is talking he 
scrambles from one stone to another y turning them 
over in frantic haste. Finally he jumps to his 
feet excitedly.) Is I lost de place? Must have! 
But how dat happen when I was followin' de 
trail across de plain in broad daylight? (Almost 

31 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



plaintively) Tse hungry, I is! I gotta git my 
feed. Whar's my strength gonna come from 
if I doesn't? Gorry, I gotta find dat grub high 
an' low somehow! Why it come dark so quick 
like dat? Can't see no thin'. {He scratches a 
match on his trousers and peers about him. The 
rate of the beat of the far-off tom-tom increases 
perceptibly as he does so. He mutters in a be- 
wildered voice.) How come all dese white 
stones come heah when I only remembers one? 
{Suddenly^ with a frightened gasp^ he flings the 
match on the ground and staw.ps on it.) Nigger, 
is yo' gone crazy mad? Is you lightin' matches 
to show dem whar you is? Fo' Lawd's sake, 
use yo' haid. Gorry, I'se got to be careful! 
{He stares at the plain behind him apprehensively ^ 
his hand on his revolver.) But how come all 
dese white stones? And whar's dat tin box o' 
grub I hid all wrapped up in oilcloth? 

(JVhile his back is turned, the Little Formless 
Fears creep out fro7n the deeper blackness of the 
forest. They are black, shapeless; only their 
glittering little eyes can be seen. If they have 
any describable form, at all it is that of a grub- 
worm about the size of a creeping child. They 
move noiselessly, but with deliberate, painful 
effort, striving to raise themselves on end, failing 
and sinking prone again. Jones turns about to 
face the forest. He stares up at the tops of the 
trees, seeking vainly to discover his whereabouts 
by their conformation.) 

32 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



Can't tell nothin' from dem trees! Gorry, 
nothin' 'round heah look like I evah seed it 
befo'. Fse done lost de place sho' 'nufF! (JVith 
mournful foreboding) It's mighty queer! It's 
mighty queer! {JVith sudden forced defiance — in 
an angry tone) Woods, is yo' tryin' to put some- 
thin' ovah on me? 

(From the formless creatures on the ground in 
front of him comes a tiny gale of low mocking 
laughter like a rustling of leaves. They squirm 
upward toward him in twisted attitudes. Jones 
looks downy leaps backward with a yell of terror ^ 
yanking out his revolver as he does so — in a 
quavering voiced 

What's dat? Who's dar? What's you? Git 
away from me befo' I shoots yo' up! Yo' 
don't?— 

{lie fires. There is a flashy a loud report ^ then 
silence^ broken only by the far-off quickened 
throb of the tom-tom. The formless creatures 
have scurried back into the forest. Jones remains 
fixed in his position^ listening intently. The 
sound of the shot, the reassuring feel of the re- 
volver in his hand have somewhat restored his 
shaken nerve. He addresses himself with re- 
newed confidence:) 

Dey're gone. Dat shot fix 'em. Dey was only 
little animals — little wild pigs, I reckon. Dey've 
maybe rooted out yo* grub an' eat it. Sho', yo' 
fool nigger, what yo' think dey is — ha'nts? 

33 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



{Excitedly) Gorry, you give de game away when 
yo' fire dat shot. Dem niggers heah dat fo' 
su'tin! Time yo' beat it in de woods widout 
no long waits. (He starts for the forest — hesi- 
tates before the plunge — then urging himself in 
with manful resolution.) Git in, nigger! What 
yo' skeered at? Ain't nothin' dere but de 
trees! Git in! {He plunges boldly into the 
forest,) 



SCENE THREE 

{JSline o'clock. In the forest. The moon has just 
risen. Its beams drifting through the canopy of 
leaves make a barely perceptible^ suf used eerie glow. 
A dense low wall of underbrush and creepers is in 
the nearer foreground fencing in a small triangular 
clearing. Beyond this is the massed blackness of 
the forest like an encompassing barrier, A path 
is dimly discerned leading down to the clearing 
from left^ rear^ and winding away from it again to- 
ward the right. As the scene opens nothing can 
be distinctly made out. Except for the beating of 
the tom-tom^ which is a trifle louder and quicker 
than in the previous scene^ there is silence^ broken 
every few seconds by a queer^ clicking sound. 
Then gradually the figure of the negro Jef can be 
discerned crouching on his haunches at the rear of 
the triangle. He is middle-aged^ thin^ brown in 
color ^ is dressed in a Pullman porter s uniform^ 
cap J etc. He is throwing a pair of dice on the ground 
before him^ picking them up^ shaking them^ cast- 

34 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



ing them out with the regular^ rigid ^ mechanical 
movements of an automaton. The heavy ^ plod- 
ding footsteps of some one approaching along the 
trail from the left are heard, and Jones'* voice, 
pitched in a slightly higher key and strained in a 
cheering effort to overcome its own tremors,) 

De moon's rizen. Does yo' heah dat, nigger? 
Yo' gits more light from dis out. No mo' 
buttin' yo' fool head agin' de trunks an' 
scratchin' de hide off yo' legs in de bushes. 
Now yo' sees whar yo'se gwine. So cheer up! 
From now on yo' has a snap. {He steps just to 
the rear of the triangular clearing and mops off 
his face on his sleeve. He has lost his Panama 
hat. His face is scratched, his brilliant uniform 
shows several large rents.) What time's it 
gittin' to be, I wonder? I dassent light no 
match to find out. Phoo'. It's wa'm, an' 
dat's a fac'! {Wearily) How long I been 
makin' tracks in dese woods? Must be hours 
an' hours. Seems like fo'evah! Yit can't be, 
when de moon's jes' riz. Dis am a long night 
fo' yo', yo' Majesty! {With a mournful chuckle) 
Majesty! Der ain't much majesty 'bout dis 
baby now. {With attempted cheerfulness) Never 
min'. It's all part o' de game. Dis night come 
to an end like everythin' else. An' when yo' 
gits dar safe an' has dat bankroll in yo' hands, 
yo' laughs at all dis. {He starts to whistle, but 
checks himself abruptly^ What yo' whistlin' 
for, yo' po' dope? Want all de worl' to heah 

35 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



yo'? {He stops talking to listen,) Heah dat ole 
drum! Sho' gits nearer from de sound. Dey're 
packin' it along wid 'em. Time fo' me to move. 
{He takes a step forward^ then stops — worriedly.) 
What's dat odder queer clicketty sound I heah? 
Der it is! Sound close! Sound like — fo' God 
sake, sound like some nigger was shakin' crap! 
(Frightenedly) I better beat it quick when I gits 
dem notions. (He walks quickly into the clear 
space — then stands transfixed as he sees Jefi — in 
a terrified gasp.) Who dar? Who dat? Is dat 
yo', JefF? {Starting toward the other, forgetful 
for a moment of his surroundings and really 
believing it is a living man that he sees — in a 
tone of happy relief^ JefF! Tse sho' mighty 
glad to see yo'! Dey tol' me yo' done died 
from dat razor cut I gives you. {Stopping sud- 
denly, bewilder edly) But how come you to be 
heah, nigger? {He stares fascinatedly at the 
other, who continues his mechanical play with 
the dice, Jones' eyes begin to roll wildly. He 
stutters) Ain't you gwine — look up — can't you 
speak to me? Is you — is you — a ha'nt? {He 
jerks out his revolver in a frenzy of terrified rage.) 
Nigger, I kills yo' dead once. Has I got to kill 
yo' agin? You take it, den. {He fires. When 
the smoke clears away Jeff has disappeared. 
Jones stands trembling — then with a certain reas- 
surance) He's gone, anyway. Ha'nt or no 
ha'nt, dat shot fix him. {J^he beat of the far-off 
tom-tom is perceptibly louder and more rapid. 
Jones becomes conscious of it — with a start, look- 

36 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



ing back ove?' his shoulder.) Dey's gittin' near! 
Dey're comin' fast! An' heah I is shoo tin' 
shots to let 'em know jes' whar I is. Oh, 
Gorry, I'se got to run. {Forgetting the pathy 
he plunges wildly into the underbrush in the rear 
and disappears in the shadow^ 



SCENE FOUR 

{Eleven o'clock. In the forest, A wide dirt road 
runs diagonally from rights fronts to left, rear. 
Rising sheer on both sides the forest walls it in. 
The moon is now up. Under its light the road 
glimmers ghastly and U77real. It is as if the 
forest had stood aside momentarily to let the road 
pass through and accomplish its veiled purpose. 
This donCy the forest will fold in upon itself 
again and the road will he no more. Jones 
stumbles in from the forest on the right. His 
uniform is ragged and torn. He looks about him 
with numbed surprise when he sees the road, his 
eyes blinking in the bright moonlight. He flops 
down exhaustedly and pants heavily for a while. 
Then, with sudden anger:) 

I'm meltin' wid heat! Runnin' an' runnin' an' 
runnin'! Damn dis heah coat! Like a strait- 
jacket! {He tears off his coat and flings it away 
from him, revealing himself stripped to the waist.) 
Dere! Dat's better! Now I kin breathe! 
{Looking down at his feet, the spurs catch his eye.) 
An' to hell wid dese high-fangled spurs. Dey're 

37 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



what's been a-trippin' me up an' breakin' my 
neck. {He unstraps and flings them away dis- 
gustedly^ Dere! I gits rid o' dem frippety 
Emperor trappings an' I travels lighter. Lawd! 
I'se tired! {After a pause ^ listening to the in- 
sis tent beat of the tom-tom in the distance,) I 
must 'a put some distance between myself an' 
dem — runnin' like dat — an' yet — dat damn 
drum sound jes' de same — nearer, even. Well, 
I guess I a'most holds my lead, anyhow. Dey 
won't never kotch up. {With a sigh) If on'y 
my fool legs stands up. Oh, I'se sorry I evah 
went in for dis. Dat Emperor job is sho' hard 
to shake. {He looks around him suspiciously.) 
How'd dis road evah git heah? Good, level 
road, too. I never remembers seein' it befo'. 
{Shaking his head apprehensively.) Dese woods 
is sho' full o' de queerest things at night. 
{With sudden terror) Lawd God, don't let me 
see no more o' dem ha'nts. Dey gits my goat! 
{Then trying to talk himself into confidence.) 
Ha'nts! Yo' fool nigger, dey ain't no such 
things! Don't de Baptist parson tell you dat 
many time? Is yo' civilized, or is yo' like dese 
ign'rent black niggers heah? Sho'! Dat was 
all in yo' own head. Wasn't nothin' there! 
Wasn't no Jeff! Know what? Yo' jus' get 
seein' dem thing 'cause yo' belly's empty an' 
you's sick wid hunger inside. Hunger 'fects 
yo' head an' yo' eyes. Any fool know dat. 
{Then pleading fervently) But bless God, I don't 
come across no more o' dem, whatever dey is! 

38 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



{Then cautiously) Rest! Don't talk! Rest! 
You needs it. Den yo' gits on yo' way again. 
{Looking at the moon) Night's half gone a'most. 
Yo' hits de coast in de mawning! Den you'se 
all safe. 

{From the right forward a small gang of negroes 
enter » They are dressed in striped convicts suits ^ 
their heads are shaven^ one leg drags limpingly^ 
shackled to a heavy ball and chain. Some carry 
picks ^ the others shovels. They are followed by 
a white man dressed in the uniform of a prison 
guard, A Winchester rifle is slung across his 
shoulders and he carries a heavy whip. At a 
signal from the guard they stop on the road oppo- 
site to where Jones is sitting, Jones, who has 
been staring up at the sky, unmindful of their 
noiseless approach, suddenly looks down and sees 
them. His eyes pop out, he tries to get to his 
feet and fly, but sinks back, too numbed by fright 
to move. His voice catches in a choking prayer^ 

Lawd Jesus ! 

{The prison guard cracks his whip — noiselessly — 
and at that signal all the convicts start to work on 
the road. They swing their picks, they shovel, 
but not a sound comes from their labor. Their 
movements, like those of Jeff in the preceding 
scene, are those of automatons — rigid, slow, and 
mechanical. The prison guard points sternly at 
Jones with his whip, motions him to take his 
place among the other shovelers, Jones gets to 

39 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



his feet in a hypnotized stupor. He mumbles 
subserviently:) 

Yes, suh! Yes, suh! I'se comin'! 

(As he shuffles^ dragging one foot^ over to his 
placey he curses under his breath with rage and 
hatred^ 

God damn yo' soul, I gits even wid yo' yit, 
sometime. 

(As if there was a shovel in his hands ^ he goes 
through weary y mechanical gestures of digging up 
dirt and throwing it to the roadside. Suddenly 
the guard approaches him angrily ^ threateningly. 
He raises his whip and lashes Jones viciously 
across the shoulders with it. Jones winces with 
pain and cowers abjectly. The guard turns his 
back on him and walks away contemptuously. 
Instantly Jones straightens up. With arms up- 
raisedy as if his shovel were a club in his hands, 
he springs murderously at the unsuspecting 
guard. In the act of crashing down his shovel 
on the white mans skull, Jones suddenly becomes 
aware that his hands are empty. He cries de- 
spairingly:) 

Whar's my shovel? Gimme my shovel 'till 
I splits his damn head! {Appealing to his 
fellow convicts) Gimme a shovel, one o' yo' fo' 
God's sake! 

{They stand fixed in motionless attitudes, their 
eyes on the ground. The guard seems to wait 
40 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



expectantly^ his back turned to the attacker, 
Jones bellows with baffled terrified rage^ tugging 
frantically at his revolver,) 

I kills you, you white debil, if it's de last thing 
I evah does! Ghost or debil, I kill you agin! 

\He frees the revolver and fires pointblank at the 
guard's back. Instantly the walls of the forest 
close in from both sides ^ the road ayid the figures 
of the convict gang are blotted out in an enshroud- 
ing darkness. The only sounds are a crashing 
in the underbrush as Jones leaps away in mad 
flight and the throbbing of the tom-tom^ still far 
distant^ but increased in volume of sound and 
rapidity of beat.) 



SCENE FIVE 

{One o'clock. A large circular clearings enclosed 
by the serried ranks of lofty ^ gigantic trunks of 
tall trees whose tops are lost to view. In the center 
is a big dead stumps worn by time into a curious 
resemblance to an auction block. The moon floods 
the clearing with a clear light. Jones forces his 
way in through the forest on the left. He looks 
wildly about the clearing with hunted^ fearful 
glances. His pants are in tatters^ his shoes cut 
and misshapen^ flapping about his feet. He 
slinks cautiously to the stump in the center and 
sits down in a tense position^ ready for instant 
flight. Then he holds his head in his hands and 

41 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



rocks back and forth, moaning to himself mis- 
erably.) 

Oh, Lawd, Lawd! OhLawd^Lawd! {Suddenly 
he throws himself on his knees and raises his 
clasped hands to the sky — in a voice of agonized 
pleading,) Lawd, Jesus, heah my prayer! I'se 
a poor sinner, a poor sinner! I knows I done 
wrong, I knows it! When I cotches Jeff cheatin* 
wid loaded dice my anger overcomes me an' I 
kills him dead! Lawd, I done wrong! When 
dat guard hits me wid de whip, my anger 
overcomes me, and I kills him dead. Lawd, 
I done wrong! An* down heah whar dese fool 
bush niggers raises me up to the seat o' de 
mighty, I steals all I could grab. Lawd, I 
done wrong! I knows it! Tse sorry! Forgive 
me*, Lawd! Forgive dis po' sinner! {Then 
beseeching terrifiedly) An' keep dem away, 
Lawd! Keep dem away from me! An' stop 
dat drum soundin' in my ears! Dat begin to 
sound ha'nted, too. {He gets to his feet, evi- 
dently slightly reassured by his prayer — with 
attempted confidence) De Lawd'll preserve me 
from dem ha'nts after dis. {Sits down on the 
stump again.) I ain't skeered o' real men. Let 
dem come. But dem odders — {He shudders — 
then looks down at his feet, working his toes in- 
side the shoes — with a groan) Oh, my po' feet! 
Dem shoes ain't no use no more 'ceptin' to 
hurt. I'se better off widout dem. {He unlaces 
them and pulls them of — holds the wrecks of the 

42 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



shoes in his hand and regards them mournfully,) 
You was real A-one patin' leather, too. Look 
at yo' now. Emperor, you'se gittin' mighty 
low! 

{He sighs dejectedly and remains with bowed 
shoulders^ staring down at the shoes in his hands 
as if reluctant to throw them away. While his 
attention is thus occupied^ a crowd of figures 
silently enter the clearing from all sides. All are 
dressed in Southern costumes of the period of the 
fifties of the last century. There are middle-aged 
men who are evidently well-to-do planters. There 
is one spruce^ authoritative individual — the Auc- 
tioneer. There are a crowd of curious spectators^ 
chiefly young belles and dandies who have come 
to the slave market for diversion. All exchange 
courtly greetings in dumb show and chat silently 
together. There is something stiffs rigid^ unreal^ 
marionettish about their movements. They group 
themselves about the stump. Finally a batch of 
slaves are led in from the left by an attendant — ■ 
three men of different ages, two women^ one with 
a baby in her arms, nursing. They are placed to 
the left of the stumpy beside Jones, 

The white planters look them over appraisingly 
as if they were cattle ^ and exchange judgments on 
each. The dandies point with their fingers and 
make witty remarks. The belles titter bewitch- 
ingly. All this in silence save for the ominous 
throb of the tom-tom. The Auctioneer holds up 
his handy taking his place at the stump. The 

43 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



groups strain forward attentively. He touches 
Jones on the shoulder peremptorily, motioning for 
him to stand on the stump — the auction block. 
Jones looks up, sees the figures on all sides , looks 
wildly for some opening to escape, sees none, 
^creams and leaps madly to the top of the stump 
to get as far away from them as possible. He 
stands there, cowering, paralyzed with horror. 
The Auctioneer begins his silent spiel. He points 
to Jones, appeals to the planters to see for them- 
selves. Here is a good field hand, sound in wind 
and limb, as they can see. Very strong still, in 
spite of his being middle-aged. Look at that back. 
Look at those shoulders. Look at the muscles in 
his arms and his sturdy legs. Capable of any 
amount of hard labor. Moreover, of a good dis- 
position, intelligent and tractable. Will any gen- 
tleman start the bidding? The planters raise 
their fingers, make their bids. They are appar- 
ently all eager to possess Jones. The bidding is 
lively, the crowd interested. While this has been 
going on, Jones has been seized by the courage of 
desperation. He dares to look down and around 
him. Over his face abject terror gives way to 
mystification, to gradual realization — stutteringly:) 

What yo' all doin', white folks? What's all 
dis ? What yo' all lookin' at me fo' ? What yo* 
doin' wid me, anyhow? {Suddenly convulsed 
with raging hatred and fear) Is dis a auction? 
Is yo' sellin' me like dey uster befo' de war? 
{Jerking out his revolver just as the Auctioneer 

44 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



knocks him down to one of the planters — glaring 
from him to the purchaser) An* you sells me? 
An' you buys me? I shows you Tse a free 
nigger, damn yo' souls ! {He fires at the Auc- 
tioneer and at the planter with such rapidity that 
the two shots are almost simultaneous. As if 
this were a signal ^ the walls of the forest fold in, 
X)nly blackness remains and silence broken by 
Jones as he rushes offj crying with fear — and by 
the quickened^ ever louder beat of the tom-tom,) 



SCENE SIX 

{Three o'clock. A cleared space in the forest. 
The limbs of the trees meet over it^ forming a low 
ceiling about five feet from the ground. The inter- 
locked ropes of creepers reaching upward to en- 
twine the tree trunks give an arched appearance 
to the sides. The space this encloses is like the 
dark, noisome hold of some ancient vessel. The 
moonlight is almost completely shut out and only 
a vague, wan light filters through. There is the noise 
of some one approaching from the left, stumbling 
and crawling through the undergrowth, Jones' 
voice is heard between chattering moans ^ 

Oh, Lawd, what I gwine do now? Ain't got 
no bullet left on'y de silver one. If mo' o' dem 
ha'nts come after me, how I gwine skeer dem 
away? Oh, Lawd, on'y de silver one left — an' 
I gotta save dat fo' luck. If I shoots dat one 
I'm a goner sho'! Lawd, it's black heah! 

45 




THE EMPEROR JONES 



Whar's de moon? Oh, Lawd, don't dis night 
evah come to an end? {By the sounds he is 
feeling his way cautiously forward.) Dere! Dis 
feels like a clear space. I gotta lie down an' 
rest. I don't care if dem niggers does catch me. 
I gotta rest. 

{He is well forward now where his figure can be 
dimly made out. His pants have been so torn 
away that what is left of them is no better than a 
breech cloth. He flings himself full lengthy face 
downward on the ground ^panting with exhaustion. 
Gradually it seems to grow lighter in the enclosed 
space ^ and two rows of seated figures can be seen 
behind Jones. They are sitting in crumpled, 
despairing attitudes , hunched facing one another, 
with their backs touching the forest walls as if 
they were shackled to them. All are negroes, 
naked save for loin cloths. At first they are silent 
and motionless. Then they begin to sway slowly 
forward toward each other and back again in 
unison, as if they were laxly letting themselves 
follow the long roll of a ship at sea. At the same 
time, a low, melancholy murmur rises among 
them, increasing gradually by rhythmic degrees, 
which seem to be directed and controlled by the 
throb of the tom-tom in the distance, to a long, 
tremendous wail of despair that reaches a certain 
pitch, unbearably acute, then falls by slow grada- 
tions of tone into silence and is taken up again. 
Jones starts, looks up, sees the figures, and throws 
himself down again to shut out the sight. A shudder 

46 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



of terror shakes his whole body as the wail rises 
up about him again. But the next timey his voice ^ 
as if under some uncanny compulsion^ starts 
with the others. As their chorus lifts he rises to 
a sitting posture similar to the others^ swaying 
back and forth. His voice reaches the highest 
pitch of sorroWy of desolation. The light fades 
out, the other voices cease, and only darkness is 
left, Jones can be heard scrambling to his feet 
and running ojff, his voice sinking down the scale 
and receding as he moves farther and farther away 
in the forest. The tom-tom beats louder, quicker, 
with a more insistent, triumphant pulsation^ 



SCENE SEVEN 

(Five o'clock. The foot of a gigantic tree by the 
edge of a great river, A rough structure of boulders 
like an altar is by the tree. The raised river bank 
is in the nearer background. Beyond this the 
surface of the river spreads out brilliant and un- 
ruffled in the moonlight, blotted out and merged 
into a veil of bluish mist in the distance, Jones* 
voice is heard from the left, rising and falling in 
the long, despairing wail of the chained slaves, 
to the rhythmic beat of the tom-tom. As his voice 
sinks into silence he enters the open space. The 
expression of his face is fixed and stony, his eyes 
have an obsessed glare, he moves with a strange 
deliberation like a sleep-walker or one in a trance. 
He looks around at the tree, the rough stone altar, 
the moonlit surface of the river beyond, and passes 

47 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



his hand over his head with a vague gesture of 
puzzled bewilderment. Then, as if in obedience 
to some obscure impulse^ he sinks ijUo a kneeling^ 
devotional posture before the altar. Then he 
seems to come to himself partly^ to have an un- 
certain realization of what he is doings for he 
straightens up and stares about him horrifiedly — in 
an incoherent mumble^ 

What — what is I doin'? What is — dis place? 
Seems like — seems like I know dat tree — an* 
dem stones — an' de river. I remember — seems 
like I been heah befo\ (Tremblingly) Oh, 
Gorry, Tse skeered in dis place! I'se skeered! 
Oh, Lawdj pertect dis sinner! 

[Crawling away from the altar, he cowers close 
to the ground, his face hidden, his shoulders 
heaving with sobs of hysterical fright. From be- 
hind the trunk of the tree, as if he had sprung out 
of it, the figure of the Congo witch-doctor appears. 
He is wizened and old, naked except for the fur 
of some small animal tied about his waist, its 
bushy tail hanging down in front. His body 
is stained all over a bright red. Antelope horns 
are on each side of his head, branching upward. 
In one hand he carries a bone rattle, in 
the other a charm stick with a bunch of 
white cockatoo feathers tied to the end, A great 
number of glass beads and bone ornaments are 
about his neck, ears, wrists, and ankles. He 
struts noiselessly with a queer prancing step to 
a position in the clear ground between Jones and 

48 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



the altar. Then with a preliminary^ summoning 
stamp of his foot on the earthy he begins to dance 
and to chant. As if in response to his summons 
the beating of the tom-tom grows to a fierce^ ex- 
ultant boom whose throbs seem to fill the air with 
vibrating rhythm. Jones looks up, starts to spring 
to^ his feet J reaches a half -kneeling^ half -squatting 
position^ and remains rigidly fixed there^ par- 
alyzed with awed fascination by this new appari- 
tion. The witch-doctor sways ^ stamping with his 
footy his bone rattle clicking the time. His voice 
rises and falls in a weirdy monotonous croon, 
without articulate word division. Gradually his 
dance becomes clearly one of a narrative in pan- 
tomime, his croon is an incantation, a charm to 
allay the fierceness of some implacable deity de- 
manding sacrifice. He flees, he is pursued by 
devils, he hides, he flees again. Ever wilder and 
wilder becomes his flight, nearer and nearer draws 
the pursuing evil, more and more the spirit of 
terror gains possession of him. His croon, rising 
to intensity, is punctuated by shrill cries. Jones 
has become completely hypnotized. His voice joins 
in the incantation, in the cries; he beats time with 
his hands and sways his body to and fro from the 
waist. The whole spirit and meaning of the dance 
has entered into him, has become his spirit. 
Finally the theme of the pantomime halts, on a 
howl of despair, and is taken up again in a note 
of savage hope. There is a salvation. The forces 
of evil demand sacrifice. They must be appeased. 
The witch-doctor points with his wand to the 

49 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



sacred tree^ the river beyond^ to the altar^ and 
finally to 'Jones with a ferocious command. Jones 
seems to sense the meaning of this. It is he who 
must offer himself for sacrifice. He beats his fore- 
head abjectly to the ground^ moaning hysterically^ 
Mercy, Oh Lawd! Mercy! Mercy on dis po' 
sinner! 

(The witch-doctor springs to the river bank. He 
stretches out his arms and calls to some god 
within its depths. Then he starts backward 
slowly^ his arms remaining out. A huge head 
of a crocodile appears over the bank and its eyes, 
glittering greenly, fastens upon Jones. He stares 
into them fascinatedly. The witch-doctor prances 
up to him, touches him with his wand, motions 
with hideous command toward the waiting monster. 
Jones squirms on his belly nearer and nearer, 
moaning continually:) 

Mercy, Lawd! Mercy! 

(The crocodile heaves more of his enormous hulk 
onto the land. Jones squirms toward him. The 
witch-doctor s voice shrills out in furious ex- 
ultation, the tom-tom beats madly. Jones cries 
out in fierce, exhausted spasms of anguished 
pleading:) 

Lawd, save me! Lawd Jesus, heah my prayer! 

(Immediately, in answer to his prayer, comes the 
thought of the one bullet left him. He snatches at 
his hip, shouting defiantly:) 

SO 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



De silver bullet! Yo' don^t git me yit! 

{He fires at the green eyes in front of him. The 
head of the crocodile sinks back behind the river 
bank, the witch-doctor springs behind the sacred 
tree and disappears. Jones lies with his face to 
the ground, his arms outstretched, whimpering 
with fear as the throb of the tom-tom fills the 
silence about him with a somber pulsation, a 
baffled but revengeful power.) 

SCENE EIGHT 

{Dawn. Same as Scene Two, the dividing line of 
forest and plain. The nearest tree trunks are 
dimly revealed, but the forest behind them is still 
a mass of glooming shadow. The tom-tom seems 
on the very spot, so loud and continuously vibrat- 
ing are its beats. Lem enters from the left, 
followed by a small squad of his soldiers, and by 
the Cockney trader, Smithers. Lem is a heavy- 
set, ape-faced old savage of the extreme African 
type, dressed only in a loin cloth. A revolver and 
cartridge belt are about his waist. His soldiers 
are in different degrees of rag-concealed naked- 
ness. All wear broad palm leaf hats. Each one 
carries a rifle. Smithers is the same as in Scene 
One. One of the soldiers, evidently a tracker, is 
peering about keenly on the ground. He grunts 
and points to the spot where Jones entered the 
. forest. Lem and Smithers come to look.) 

SMITHERS (after a glance, tu^ns away in disgust.) 
That's where 'e went in right enough. Much 

51 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



good it'll do yer. 'E's miles orf by this an' safe 
to the coast, damn 'is 'ide! I tole yer ye'd lose 
'im, didn't I? — wastin' the 'ole bloomin' night 
beatin' yer bloody drum and castin' yer silly 
spells! Gawd blimey, wot a pack! 

LEM {gutter ally) 
We kotch him. You see. (He makes a motion 
to his soldiers^ who squat down on their haunches 
in a semi-circle^ 

SMITH ERS iexasperatedly) 

Well, ain't yer goin' in an' 'unt 'im in the 
woods? What the 'ell's the good of waitin'? 

LEM {imperturbably — squatting down himself) 
We kotch him. 

SMiTHERS {turning away from him contemptuously) 
Aw! Garn! 'E's a better man than the lot o' 
you put together. I 'ates the sight o' 'im, but 
I'll say that for 'im. 

{A sound of snapping twigs comes from the 
forest. The soldiers jump to their feety cocking 
their rifles alertly. Lem remains sitting with an 
imperturbable expression^ but listening intently. 
The sound from the woods is repeated. Lem 
fnakes a quick signal with his hand. His fol- 
lowers creep quickly but noiselessly into the forest ^ 
scattering so that each enters at a different spot.) 

SMITHERS {in the silence that follows — in a con- 
temptuous whisper) 
You ain't thinkin' that would be 'im, I 'ope? . 

LEM {calmly) 
We kotch him. ' 

52 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



SMITHERS 

Blarsted fat 'eads! (Then after a second's 
thought — wonderingly) Still an' all, it might 
happen. If 'e lost 'is bloody way in these 
stinkin' woods 'e'd likely turn in a circle with- 
out 'is knowin' it. They all does. 
LEM {peremptorily) 
S-s-s-h-h! 

(The report of several rifles sounds from the forest^ 
followed a second later by savage^ exultant yells. 
The beating of the tom-tom abruptly ceases, Lem 
looks up at the white man with a grin of satis- 
faction.) 

We kotch him. Him dead. 
SMITHERS (with a snarl) 

'Ow d'yer know it's 'im an' 'ow d'yer know 
'e's dead.^ 

LEM 

My men's dey got 'um silver bullets. Dey 
kill him shore. 
SMITHERS (astonished) 
They got silver bullets? 

LEM 

Lead bullet no kill him. He got um strong 
charm. I took um money, make um silver bul- 
let, make um strong charm, too. 
SMITHERS (light breaking upon him) 

So that's wot you was up to all night, wot.^ 
You was scared to put after 'im till you'd 
molded silver bullets, eh? 

S2 



THE EMPEROR JONES 



LEM {simply stating a fact) 

Yes. Him got strong charm. Lead no good. 

SMiTHERS {slapping his thigh and guf awing) 
Haw-haw! If yer don't beat al 'ell! (Then 
recovering himself — scornfully) I'll bet you it 
ain't 'im they shot at all, yer bleedin' looney! 

LEM (calmly) 

Dey come bring him now. 

(The soldiers come out of the forest ^ carrying 
f ones' limp body. There is a little reddish- 
purple hole under his left breast. He is dead. 
They carry him to Le?n^ who examines his body 
with great satisfaction. Smithers leans over his 
shoulder — in a tone of frightened awe:) 

Well, they did for yer right enough, Jonesy, 
me lad! Dead as a 'erring! (Mockingly) 
Where's yer 'igh an' mighty airs now, yer 
bloomin' Majesty? (Then with a grin) Silver 
bullets! Gawd blimey, but yer died in the 
'eight o' style, any'ow! 

(Lem makes a motion to the soldiers to carry the 
body out left. Smithers speaks to him sneeringly) 

SMITHERS 

And I s'pose you think it's yer bleedin' charms 
and yer silly beatin' the drum that made 'im 
run in a circle when 'e'd lost 'imself, don't yer? 
(But Lem makes no reply ^ does not seem to hear 
the question J walks out left after his men. Smithers 
looks after him with contemptuous scorn.) Stupid 
as 'ogs, the lot of 'em! Blarsted niggers! 
CURTAIN FALLS 
54 



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Fifty Contemporary One-Act Plays 

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Schnitzler (Arthur) — Literature 
BELGIUM 

Maeterlinck (Maurice) — The Intruder 
BOLIVIA 

More (Federico) — Interlude 
FRANCE 

Ancey (George) — M. Lamblin 

Porto-Riche (Georges) — Francoise's Luck 
GERMANY 

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von Hofmannsthal (Hugo) — Madonna Dia- 
nora 

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GREAT BRITAIN 

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HUNGARY 

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ITALY 

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Soul 
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bor 

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Quinteros (Serafina and Joaquin Alverez) 

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SWEDEN 

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Crocker (Bosworth)— The Baby Carriage 
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Two Faces 
Day (Frederick L.)— The Slump 
Flanner (Hildegard) — Mansions 
Glaspell (Susan) — Trifles 
Gerstenberg (Alice) — The Pot Boiler 
Helburn (Theresa)— Enter the Hero 
Hudson (Holland) — The Shepherd in the 

Distance 
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Millay (Edna St. Vincent) — Aro da Capo 
Moeller (Philip) — Helena's Husband 
O'Neill (Eugene)— He 
Stevens (Thomas Wood) — The Nursery 

Maid of Heaven 
Stevens (Wallace)— Three Travelers Watch 

a Sunrise 
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V/alker (Stuart)— The Medicine Show 
Wellman (Rita)— For All Time 
V/ilde (Percival)— The Finger of God 
YIDDISH 

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More Portmanteau Plats . . . .Stuart Walker, net 2.50 

Portmanteau Adaptations Stuart Walker^ net 2.50 

Stewart KM Modern Plays 

Mansions Hildegarde Planner .50 

The Shepherd in the Distance. .Holland Hudson .50 

Hearts to Mend H. A. Overstreet .50 

Sham Frank G. Tompkins .50 

Six Who Pass While tke Lentils Boil 

Stuart Walker .50 

Others to Follow v ^) 



